Zugzwang
by PissyNovelist
Summary: She hadn't checked the out of place closet off the living room. Her mistake left her in a defenseless position, beaten up and injected with a mystery liquid.With her last moments of consciousness, she makes a call. Not to Donald, not to Tom, but to Raymond Reddington; who is ready to make someone pay. ((Rewrite of previous story 'Apprenticeship'))
1. Invasion

**Here it is, in all its revised glory.**

Liz stood in the foyer, door hanging wide open, within the midst of toeing off her shoes when she froze. Something was not right. She had certainly never seen the shadows that crept along her walls with gentle precision before; at least not at this time of day. She palmed her gun, slipping it from the confines of her purse. Tossing the purse aside, she flicked the safety off and raised her gun, slowly moving forward through her home.

"Tom? I'm home, babe." She called, knowing that Tom should be there. He always was. It was a Tuesday night, after all. A very special Tuesday, no less. Many of the Blacklist task force had been granted some time off after dealing with the last blacklister. Cooper had fought for it, very few of his team had escaped this fight unscathed. When Liz called Tom earlier to tell him the news, he seemed more than thrilled. All the evidence stated that he should be here; in their home.

But, with Liz's upmost certainty, Tom wouldn't feel the need to creep around his own home.

As she expected, there was no happy call after her, no light greeting words, or even the shuffle of excited feet from upstairs. It was silent; even her own breath seemed loud, each breath an event as she whipped her gun around yet another corner. Check your blind spots, she thought. When she cleared the main floor, she felt relaxed. Perhaps the sun was hitting the lamppost at an interesting angle; an infinite amount of possibilities could have caused a casted shadow.

"Job's makin' you paranoid, Liz." She laughed to herself.

She set her piece upon the shining clean counters before removing her shoes. With a tight stretch, Liz walked back to retrieve her purse. Back to the kitchen she went, hand rustling in the innards of her purse for her phone. Maybe Tom had texted her about why he wasn't home. She was disappointed; zero alerts from Tom, one from Donald, one from Red. Both men could wait. Stuffing her phone in her pocket, she went to flop herself down upon the living room couch, before her stomach fell to the pit of her abdomen.

From just beyond the hallway, a misplaced rustle.

Liz stared over her shoulder, dumbfounded, at the hallway. A zestful smile graced her lips. She was the top of her class, the best in the business, and half way through her first year at the academy she was already showing people how to master the house clearing procedure. Oh the irony.

She hadn't checked the out of place closet off the living room.

As soon as she turned back to the counter to grasp her gun, a heavy object collided with the back of her skull. Her version suddenly went dark, but she was still conscious. On her way to the floor she tried to grab her gun, but failed. A large hand gripped her ankle and tossed her onto her back, staring to drag her body to the force. She used her free leg to kick, aimlessly, at the strong thing pulling at her. A satisfying pop notified her she had hit his kneecap. The deep, male voice growled, and when he let her go in his pain, she swung a leg low and wide, bringing her attacker onto his own back.

With a few more blinks, her black vision was starting to correct. Black became swirls of mixed, messy colours, and that quickly became a fog, which was easier to deal with than not being able to see at all. Before Liz could finally get the upper hand, her attacker was on her, pinning her down in a mounted position. Her eyes fell on his face and she focused, hoping to memorize every detail. Yellow smoker's teeth, filthy greying beard, two brown eyes with a scar on his forehead. The scar was most important. On his hand was a tattoo; thick, black sun with measured dots all around.

"Pretty." She watched him smell down her neckline, the familiar point of a knife digging into the front of her throat. His mouth nearly fell upon her own, his breath pooling within her nose. He smelt of pennies and gasoline.

"He said this is just business." He grumbled, his large hand re-handling his knife.

There aren't too many people directly involved in her life that she addressed as He. Five men came to mind and she could only confirm that four out of five would never harm her. But Tom? Tom is a wild card. With Red teasing her with information, and the evidence against Tom's case beginning to pile up, the only person she couldn't be sure of was her husband. If Liz got out of this, she'd have to start a real investigation.

A sharp pain ceased her thought process. The familiar feeling of liquid seeping into her bloodstream met her senses. She watched the man remove a long, silver needle from her body. It was only a matter of time before she could no longer fight. Liz forced her arms, which were already falling to the mystery medicine's power, up against the man's shoulders. She planted a firm foot on his hip and pushed out from under his grasp. Grabbing his elbows tightly, she locked them into a tight position. She lifted her now free legs into the air, kicking up against his chin and throat a few times before pushing against his chest. He fell over, seemingly unconscious, against the wall. She had to get out of his sight, in case he woke up. She felt herself fleeting. She gave herself another minute or two before losing consciousness.

"Get up, just get up. Stand up, you just need to get upstairs." She kept talking to herself, hoping that she could somehow give herself the last boost she needed.

She forced herself to stand, using the walls for support and she made her way over, and up, the stairs. When Liz reached the top, she crawled to conserve her energy. She finally made it into her room, beyond her bed and into her closet, Liz pushed aside her luggage bags. Pushing aside the wooden door to the damp crawlspace, she used her last ounce of strength to drag herself inside and shut the door. Slipping her phone from her pocket, she hit speed-dial number one. For the first time since meeting him, she prayed he would answer.

"Ah, Lizzie, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Clearly unaware of the situation at hand, Red answered in the happy, uplifting voice as he usually does. Liz tried to speak, but all that came out were a string of huffed breaths and weak squeaking noises,

"Lizzie? Where are you?" Red's voice suddenly became tight, calm, yet barking at her. He didn't like to play around when Liz was involved.

"My house, Red. I won't be awake much longer." She was muttering, struggling to keep the phone up to her ear.

A sudden crash came from downstairs.

"He's awake, he's awake." Liz wanted to cry, but she didn't have the energy. Her head lulled back against the ground, frothing drool staring to pool at the corners of her mouth.

"He? Your attacker? Tom? Tell me Lizzie," He pulled away from the phone and called out about something or other ", are you hiding?"

"Crawlspace. Closet. Bags." Liz knew there was no point in wasting her breath. She couldn't tell if she was injected with a sedative or a poison. She hoped this wasn't what dying was like; no guts, no glory.

"Bags? The crawlspace in your closet by the bags?"

"Mmmm." She was drooling now, uncontrollably, in her forced exhaustion. She turned herself on her side, hoping not to choke to death if she passed out, if whatever she was injected with didn't kill her first.

"I'm coming now. Just keep talking to me for as long as you can."

"Uhm..." She huffed before nodding out, dead to the world.

**The other revised chapters are to follow soon!**

**xoxoPN**


	2. Unheard Words Speak the Truth

Her mind was awake but her body was not. Liz opened her eyes, the only working part of her body, only to be greeted with darkness. She heard footsteps within her home, but she couldn't be sure of who it was. The footsteps walked closer to her hiding spot. She prayed for Red.

The door slid open and when Red crawled through, she wanted to cry.

"I'm here, Lizzie." His voice, usually laced with silk and satin, for once was laced in true worry. She blinked, the only thing she could do to show Red that she was okay. He gave Liz a soft smile before wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her out of the confines of the crawlspace and into her bedroom, resting her upon her bed. Dembe walked in, straight to Liz's side.

"She's foaming at the mouth. What do you think happened?" This was the most she ever heard Dembe speak. She wanted to smile at his deep, rich tone.

"I'm unsure. Keep looking around, I want to stay with her." Unlike her attacker, when Red exhaled, she smelt mint and caramel. His hand held the side of her face, his thumb rubbing along her cheekbone. Red sat up, slipping of his jacket, and set it over her chilled body. He was reluctant to move, his arm slung over Liz's torso. She was safe here, in his arms.

"Shut your eyes and rest, Lizzie. I'll have you home soon." He said. She listened.

When she woke up, she noticed something under her was soft. Something above her was soft. She was enveloped in warmth and her feet were coated in a light layer of sweat. She went to roll over, pull the blankets up over the chilled shoulders, but she couldn't move. Her eyes, once again, were functional. She took in the sights around here; crème and gold décor everywhere.

'Alright Liz,' She thought to herself, more determined than ever ', wiggle your thumb.'

She kept chanting the mantra over and over; _wiggle your thumb_. How was this mystery serum even still in her system?

"Lizzy? Are you awake?" Red's whispering voice grew louder with each word. He must have just walked in the room. Liz quickly shut her eyes. She didn't want to focus on Red right now; it's all about the thumb. She heard clothing rustling and crushing against another kind of fabric. He must have pulled a chair over to sit with her.

"Dembe found the needle he used. I sent it away for testing, I'll know what you were injected with tomorrow. I'm thankful for him. I would have never noticed anything if it was just me. I was so worried about you."

"As selfish as it is too say, I am so glad you called me. I'm glad you think of me as someone who will save you, even if you're not my biggest fan right now." Red's gruff voice sounded so gentle.

"This shouldn't have happened. I should've been watching you. All I wanted was to give you some time to forgive me for leaving on your own terms, but the moment I look away, someone tries to hurt you. You're never getting out of my sight ever again." He lifted Liz's hand and kissed each knuckle.

"We're going to find him. Together. I'll show you that I can be the good guy." She figured he must assume she was asleep. He'd never be so open. She kept her eyes shut, hoping that he would both leave and say more all at the same time.

In that moment, her thumb twitched. He heard Red chuckle, stand, and then leave.

He returned with a tray in his hand, jumping at the sight of her open eyes just slightly before smirking.

"Good evening, Lizzy. Have a nice nap?" His face showed that he had no idea that Liz had heard a word.

"What time is it?" Her voice cracked.

"Eleven… at night." Red sat on the chair he was just in, holding a straw that sat in a cup full of water to her lips. She took it within her mouth and sipped.

"Excellent. Now tell me everything you remember about the man who attacked you."

"Mid-forties but he looks older I think, unshaven, mostly grey hair with brown streaks. He smelt really bad, like copper and gasoline," her voice was stronger now, the water having cleared her throat of phlegm ", and he said something to me…"

"When? What did he say?"

"He got on top of me, he had a knife. He put it into my floor and leaned down close. Said something about him saying it is just business. Something like that."

When she looked to Red, he had a familiar expression painted on. She saw the same look down in that bunker before he stood in front of her and again before dealing with the Stewmaker. He planned on murdering this man with his bare hands.

"What did he do when he was on top of you, Lizzy?" He leaned forward, Red's eyes ablaze. She took his hand, hoping to ease any tension in his gut. He squeezed her hand back, still looking at her for an answer.

"Nothing, he didn't have the time before I pushed him off."

"We're going to find him, Lizzy." Red's tone was a low rumble; the kind of tone that would send shivers down the toughest man's spine. As long as she had no part in whatever he had planned for her attack, she couldn't really stop him.

"I don't doubt you for a second, Red." He smiled once more, having pushed the thoughts lurking within aside, and set a plate that presented a sandwich on her lap. She gave it a look, then looked to Red, who was eating his own. His socked feet were propped on the edge of the bed, very lax and comfy looking.

"It's peanut butter and jam. You should eat, you need the energy. We'll get you back on your feet soon." He pointed to the food, then her, and continued to eat.

**I'm already starting to like this better!**

**xoxoPN**


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